


To Live Without Love

by kizzafielding101



Category: Monchevy - Fandom, Versailles
Genre: Canon, Fandom, French, Gay, M/M, Versailles - Freeform, m/m - Freeform, monchevy - Freeform, shipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-04 20:36:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10998531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kizzafielding101/pseuds/kizzafielding101
Summary: Prince Phillipe Duc D'Orleans has always had problems when it comes to his relationship with the Chevalier de Lorraine but when everything falls on top of him at once, it isn't easy to surface when the one man who is supposed to keep you together is tearing you apart.





	1. Away On Business

It was only 8AM in the Palace but already footsteps could be heard in every hallway. Phillipe was sat in his chair eating grapes, trying desperately to ignore the Chevalier who had been nothing but a burden on him for three weeks. As much as he loved him, it was hard to find a single part of the Chevalier that didn't irritate him to the ends of the earth. Every day for the last three weeks, the Chevalier had woken up and started drinking. Although he was a funny drunk, it seems you too had to be drunk to find him comical.

He looked over at the Chevalier who remained lying down on the bed, staring at the ceiling wrapped in their cotton sheets. He struggled to find a part of him left that could bare to look at him. He could no longer remain in the palace where all eyes were either on him or his brother. Spending a lifetime in the shadow of someone greater tends to diminish your own light and sometimes you have to go out of your way to find it again. If the Chevalier continued to dig himself a hole, Phillipe would no longer be the one to pull him out of it. For the last time, Phillipe warned him.

"Stop drinking that stuff! It has been banned from court and Louis has already exiled you once. I could not cope another time. Not now."

"My sweet, this seems to be the only way I can pass the days anymore. There is no one of any interest around."

"Do I not interest you? Am I not reason enough to remain here rather than up in the clouds where you spend your days."

"You know what I mean."

"I'm not entirely sure I do. I have nightmares that you no longer seem to notice or at the very least ignore. I am under pressure from my brother to marry once again and you... YOU seem to be spending at least half of my entire income."

Slamming his feet on the floor and marching his way to the drawing room, Phillipe knew he had to speak to his brother to find a way out of this hellhole. At least a release for a few days, Fortunately, Louis was alone for once. His legs were resting over the side of the throne and the pieces that normally represented men and horses on the map were all lying on the floor. Some broken and others with cracks.

"Brother. I must speak with you."

"Then do it fast for I am in no mood today."

Phillipe mentioned the only thing that would guarantee him leave. His duty to his men. 

"I must travel to Bordeaux to check on my men. I feel badly for leaving them to round up the last of the French. It was my duty to remain with them."

"And what of your new wife?"

"There is always the chance I may find one in Bordeaux is there not?"

"And what of the... manchild?"

"We seem to be having difficulties."

"I see. Go to Bordeaux for the weekend and oversee the men, celebrate our new city but I expect you to return by Monday morning."

"I will."

The King did not move from his chair nor look up once in the entire conversation but the reason for his discontent no longer mattered. Phillipe was free to go. He was finally being allowed out to visit somewhere where the expectations were much lower than Versailles. The stress of being under scrutiny for every moment of every day was one that easily turned strong men into a husk of a human being.

Phillipe returned to his room and ordered his men to dress him in his soldier uniform and quickly. His blue sash brought him immense pride but the heavy metal suit brought bad memories. Chevalier remained on the bed seemingly unbothered by the fact that Phillipe was dressing in his battle armour so soon after the war.

"Where are you going this time?"

"Away from you."

"You're overreacting again..."

Phillipe turned and marched towards the bed, forcing his dressers to step back quickly. Slamming down two hands either side of Chevaliers head, he knew this wasn't a game. This was a threat. Phillipe gritted his teeth - the Chevalier did not move.

"I am not overreacting. You are driving me insane. You take this entire palace for granted. You take the wealth, the nobility, the money for granted. You are so high, you don't even notice what you're doing to those around you. Stop taking me for granted or you won't keep me for very much longer..."

The dressers hurried through their work and Phillipe unsheathed his sword to make sure it had been properly cleaned. He hoped there would be no more on it for a long time yet. The last time the Chevalier had heard that noise, Phillipe had tried to kill him. It seemed to happen often of late. Perhaps he had not been overreacting. Perhaps.

"When will you return?"

"Monday morning. Do not write and stay out of trouble."

"He does care!" The Chevalier smiled and lifted his arms in celebration but they soon flopped back onto the bed.

Thrusting his sword back into its scabbard, he scowled. "I'll cut your head off myself if I have to."

Vacating the room, Phillipe took a shaky breath. Three days. It wasn't enough. 

As he mounted his horse, he looked deep into the forest that he would ride through before making his way to Bordeaux. This forest had seen many deaths, possibly many births and now it would see sadness, regret and shame. Phillipe was supposed to be a Prince. One of the few people who knows how to deal with the pressure society places upon him but now, it felt like running away. It was running away. But it was something he had to do to continue on.

Accompanied by two foot soldiers, he nodded and they took off down the path. Phillipe looked back to the Palace of Versailles thinking of the Chevalier, still laying on the bed. He felt anger more than love. In his heart, he hoped three days would be long enough to find love for him again but his brain told him that this could be the end. Clearing his throat, Phillipe focused on the journey and tried to forget about the pain that came with the word home.


	2. Bordeaux

Arriving outside Bordeaux, a fleet of men paused their work to greet the Prince. Many of the men had fought alongside him in the war. Some bowed, some asked politely how he was, others just looked to the floor in respect. Phillipe smiled half - heartedly at his welcome before continuing on to the maison.

Bordeaux was a relatively plain area and was just starting to become more impressive as new housing had been put in by the builders Louis had hired a few days after Phillipe complained about what a shame it was to have such beautiful area so bare. 

There were many acres of field empty from the war. Men were working on rooftops while others built new museums, theatres and chateaus. Women ran between the houses bringing water and food. The community of Bordeaux was already starting to form.

The deeper Phillipe got into Bordeaux, the more anxious he felt. A matter of months ago, this had been a battleground. One that he had fought on. Now it felt unsafe to remain in one spot for too long. Duke de Montagne, Phillipes second in command was sat on horseback as he noticed him.

"Prince d'Orleans! How good it is to see you! We were not expecting your arrival."

"It was a snap decision of mine. The Palace is, for lack of a better word, busy, so I thought it a good idea to visit Bordeaux while it is calm."

"Of course. As you can see, we have few places that would suit a Prince but if he does not mind a small maison?"

"We made do with worse on the battle field Montagne."

"Indeed sir. Right this way."

The white mane of Phillipe's horse laid flat against its neck as it cantered after the Dukes horse to a small maison a few miles away. Any trees that remained in the forest had leaned together to form an archway. All grass had faded into the mud but the horses made light work of it.

Approaching the small house, Phillipe smiled. It looked beautiful and most of all it was empty. It would be his. All his. No Louis standing over his shoulder telling him how to act and look, no Chevalier causing distractions and annoyances and there would be quiet. It was a rarity in the Palace of Versailles to have silence. A rarity that Phillipe would have given his entire annual income to have.

Dismounting, Phillipe handed his horse over to one of his footmen before following the Duke into the house. Laying a hand on the door, Phillipe pushed gently, the door opened responsing to his touch. The floor was marble and the windows let the light in beautifully. The walls were painted a faint cream. Less bright for the eyes than Versailles. The sun reigned over him no more. At least, not for today.

"Merci, Duke. I will settle in well here. Thank the men."

"Of course sir. Merci."

The Duke de Montagne bowed before leaving the two storey house and the Prince alone.

His thoughts began to roll around in his mind as he headed to his bedroom. How much he hated the control his brother had over his life. How much money the Chevalier was losing him per month. How much pressure was on his shoulders. Phillipe tried to structure his words. If he could explain to his brother exactly how he felt about him, what would he say?

"Le roi." Phillipe scoffed and continued in his head. That is what they call you. Le roi soleil. How can I compare to the sun? Surely I am but a shadow, hiding your greatness away from your adoring crowds. My solemn apologies for any inconvieniences I might have caused. It seems I have a habit of being in the way.

When we were little we used to build a den in the forest outside our chateau. Do you remember? Of course not. Why would you? Why would the King remember such a feeble event? It does not compare to the stresses of your life today but for me it remains the only positive memory I have of you. So please, excuse me if I seem less than excited at the mention of a ball or a banquet. Both of which are quite clearly a device to distract from the fact that no one is safe at Versailles yet you forbid us leave.

The Sun King you may be Monsieur but to me... you will always be the shadow I lived in. The darkness that stopped me seeing the light. The nightmare that haunts my nights.

Phillipe lay down onto the double bed, feeling the softness of the feather stuffed pillows. Kicking his riding boots off, he rolled over, burying himself in the sheets. It had been a long day.

No sooner had his eyes shut than visions of swirling purples, blues and streaks of white had appeared. Slowly the battleground came into view. Blues represented his men, streaks turned into the paths of bullets and purple represented the bruises and dried blood of the wounded or dead. Even when he was as close to peace as sleep could take him, the memory of those he'd lost stayed with him.

Back when the Chevalier spent his days with him rather than high in the clouds, he would soothe Phillipe. He would awaken from his nightmare to a kind face, wiping his tears of fear away. "Hush mignonette. You are safe."

Phillipe woke up panicking. Barely three hours had passed. All he wanted was his petit Prince back but he was at Versailles, so drugged up he wouldn't even move from the bed. Chevalier was the only person he made it through for and now it wasn't worth the fight.

Dressed in his linens, Phillipe slid round in his bed and placed his feet on the floor. Cold. Not as cold as Versailles but still cold. Feeling around in the dark, he grabbed his dressing gown and wrapped it around himself before heading downstairs.

His footmen were asleep so he was free to roam. At Versailles there were always nightguards so the palace never slept which made him anxious. Phillipe found it easier to sleep with his lover by his side but without him there to rock him back to sleep his only option was to stay awake.

**********  
Two days was more than enough without sleep and Phillipe was happy to return home.

The people of Bordeaux had hosted a street party at which he had been expected to dance. He understood his duties as Prince remained no matter how far from Versailles he strayed. Naturally, he danced with all of the women of Bordeaux, some part of him feeling as if this was revenge for the hell the Chevalier was putting him through.

He had dinner with the Duke shortly before his departure and the ride back seemed longer than the journey there. In his heart, he prayed that the Chevalier had returned to his normal sarcastic self and that his brother was in a reasonable mood. His mind told him not to be so ridiculous.


	3. Sans

It had been a particularly long weekend away. The whole ride back, Phillipe ran their last conversation over in his head. "You must stop. Any more of these... potions and you will destroy yourself." The Chevalier had simply smiled and taken another sip of wine. "Good. There is nothing good left in Versailles." Phillipe had bit his lip and slammed the door of their bedroom. There was no reasoning to be done. No understanding to be had but now... now he had to return home and face the mess that had been left behind.

Emerging through the small forest that surrounded the Palace of Versailles, Phillipe recognised the smell of home. He looked up to the third floor where his room resided. The curtains were still pulled. Of course they were. Without Phillipe there to order them open, the Chevalier would keep them shut because it would not aid his headache to which Phillipe would stand up himself and pull them apart sharply to prove a point.

After leaving his horse in the stable, Phillipe saw his brother sparring on the lawn with Madame de Montespan and the Queen watching on amongst three other Lords. A chance to let out some anger would not go amiss. Plus a chance to stab his brother. Who could pass on that? Upon noticing his brother Louis turned to face him. "Phillipe. Join us?" His steps became a little heavier but remained in the direction of his brother as he slid his sword out of its scabbard. "No French blood spilled in Bordeaux I hope!"

Phillipe's mouth turned sour at the mention of blood but refused to argue with his brother as to why he did not want to talk of the subject. "It went as to be expected if that is what you are indeed asking." The King clinked his sword against Phillipe's (who was standing ready) teasing the fight out of him, "Come on little brother. Find that fighting spirit we know so well!"

As the two began to spar, their swords reflecting the sunlight, the wind picked up slightly. Other noblemen passed while some took a seat on the lawn behind them watching the show. Phillipe was clearly winning as he was far more gifted when it came to combat. Louis knew how to fight well enough to defend himself but not well enough to win a war as Phillipe had.

Deciding to show off, Louis tried a new movement that a nobleman had recently taught him but being head of the French army, Phillipe countered it effortlessly. "You - will - have - to - do - a - little better - than - that!" Phillipe lunged forward, forcing the King to take a quick step back. This made Phillipe smile as he continued moving forward, pushing Louis further and futher down the lawn, closer to the Palace. This made Louis smile greatly. Phillipe had seemed lost for so many months and now, it seemed at least, he had found his feet. Their swords clinked and moved around each other effortlessly. Phillipe enjoying himself more and more by the minute.

Versailles remained in the background, the everyday drama continuing on while the brothers battled in the grounds below. "How is the Chevalier?" Louis queried unexpectedly, throwing Phillipe off his game and narrowly missing the point of his sword. The King held his sword carefully, pointing it up at Phillipes jugular. Leaning back the Prince answered shortly through gritted teeth. "I wouldn't know." Putting his weight behind his sword he pushed down on Louis and forced the sharp point out of his face.

Crunching came quickly from the gravel path and the men soon had to stop again as a messenger handed the King a letter. The envelope was cream with a blue stamp on the back. The doctors symbol. Phillipe looked as his brothers face fell and his eyes met Phillipes. "You must come. Immediately." Phillipe sprinted behind Louis to the stables, mounting his horse and hurrying to the surgeon's house...

Who was it that caused Louis such worry? Both the Queen and Madame de Montespan were in fine health in front of them. Unless there was another mistress that he was unaware of. Phillipe had never seen such fear in Louis face. Had he been hiding something from him? It would not have been the first time.

The doctors house was a brief ride through the forest. It was a small, wooden house lit purely by candles. Louis trusted her with his own life and in Versailles that was exceedingly surprising. Dismounting quickly and rushing to the door, Phillipes path became blocked by Louis. "What are you doing? Who is it?" Louis gulped and took a breath. "I knew I should have sent a messenger. I didn't know he would get worse." His eyes grew wider and Phillipe pushed Louis firmly out the way.

Bursting through the door, Phillipe prayed for good news. Their lives had been hell but there was no way it could end now. Please, not now. "What has he done." The surgeon looked up from the table where the Chevalier was lying, breathing slowly. "Too many vials of this.." she held up a small glass vial with a little residue left in the bottom. Phillipe took a few steps forward and held out a hand to take the bottle. "May I?" She obliged, laying it in the palm of his hand. The shape was similar to his old vials but the bottom was pointed, not rounded and the lid too was also different. This wasn't what he normally took.

Whether it was stronger or weaker Phillipe didn't know but it certainly wasn't poison or she would have identified it the second he came in. Phillipe looked to the pale face of his love. His eyelids were shut like he'd died and the pain coursed through him without warning. "Get up. Please. For me." The King stood at the back of the room, his head bowed in respect. Never mind the amount of times he had forced Phillipe to get married, he knew now that the two were inseparable. For once, he understood how his brother felt. Phillipe undid the vial and the King looked up within a second, knowing that if his own brother couldn't adhere to the rules of the court his authority would be questioned. "Phillipe no." Turning sharply on his heel, Phillipe hissed. "You've done enough! He is dying! Do you seriously expect me to want to live! Leave. GO!" The King widened his eyes but left the room nonetheless. When Phillipe had made up his mind there was no negotiation to be made. 

Phillipe ran the back of his hand gently against the Chevaliers cold skin. "You feel like a ghost my love. I should have known not to leave you. You're never safe on your own. You can't control yourself. Please don't do this." The Prince's voice broke causing the doctor to step forward but Phillipe held up a hand. His eyes turned back to the vial and without a doubt in his mind he sipped the rest, hoping that if he couldn't have the Chevalier back, he would at least be with him in hell. Spluttering a little, he started to recognise the taste. "YOU BASTARD!" Phillipe slapped him firmly across the face which made the doctor jump but made the Chevalier smile. "I missed you." Scoffing loudly, he couldn't find the words to describe how much Phillipe wanted to kill him, instead he settled for shouting the truth. "IT'S WATER! YOU DRANK water."

"I said... I missed you." Phillipe looked to the floor before asking the surgeon if she would mind letting them have a moment. After the door closed behind them Phillipe slapped him again. The Chevalier raised a hand to his rosy cheek, "Ouch. That one hurt." Rolling his eyes and shaking his head in utmost disapproval, Phillipe began pacing the length of the room as the Chevalier sat up on the wooden table. "What was I supposed to do mignonette? All you do is ignore me."

"You're a liability. I went away for two days."  
"I'm your liability."  
"You waste my money, your privileges, your life! How do you expect me to deal with that and all the pressure the King puts me under?"

"I thought I helped with that?" The Chevalier looked hungrily towards the Prince's lips. "You always say you feel better after some stress relief?" He winked jokingly but this just annoyed him further. "How could getting so high you barely move help me?" Phillipe turned again at headed for the door but the Chevalier leapt off the table and stood in front of the door. His back pressed firmly against it. "I wasn't high. I know it's banned from court. I thought you might take advantage of poor old me? It's hardly my fault you're so slow." Phillipe wanted to slap him again for being so deceitful but a few moments ago he had thought he was dead. The only man he ever loved was dead and there he stood bold as brass, so very obviously alive. He had been so grateful for a moment but it had all happened at once. There had been no time to think. 

"Chevalier de Lorraine."

"Oh, now I know I'm in trouble."

Phillipe didn't want to smile but that sarcastic tone had magic woven into it and even the thought that he might never have seen the Chevalier again was more than enough reason to die.

"Never. Ever. Do that to me again."

The Chevalier took a step closer to Phillipe and whispered in his ear. "I can't make that promise."

Phillipe slowly fell to the floor while fixing his gaze on the Chevalier. If he wasn't going to oblige willingly, he would try the only way that guaranteed results. The Chevalier could feel the Prince's warm breath right where he wanted it. Phillipe tilted his head to the side like a puppy, teasing the Chevalier into complying. "What about now?" Phillipe struggled to contain himself as the Chevalier's face moaned for more. He grabbed Phillipe's hair and pulled it to bring him closer but Phillipe resisted and stood up. "We have a home to go to I believe?"

Chevalier groaned but Phillipe kissed him, arms wrapped around his neck. "Come on. I'm sick of being the slow one." Chevalier couldn't have moved faster out of the doctors room to get home but the King could not have looked more terrified. "Oh calm down, I'm not dead you drama queen. Even Phillipe noticed before you." Phillipe smiled, he had his boy back.


	4. Retourner

The Chevalier clambered onto the back of Phillipe's horse slipping his hands under the Princes arms, smelling his clothes deeply. The King rode ahead, clearly annoyed at being left out of the loop. Phillipe turned his head slightly to talk to the Chevalier. "You know he's going to want an explanation?" 

The Chevalier sighed, "I have taken some more vials yes. Only three and only ever before big parties mignonette. You know I like to be on form for balls." 

"You also know that you will be in trouble when we return."Biting his lip, Phillipe looked straight ahead to his brother trying not to worry about the consequences but it was hard after knowing that these substances had been banned from court. He was glad the Chevalier was alive but he wasn't sure how much longer they had together. 

"Mignonette, not one of those vials were taken at court. Not one. You know I have moments of madness and I need to... escape."

"Moments that really ought to stop happening."

The Chevalier paused for a moment and had a feeling that this was not a problem that was going away over night. The Prince loved him but that would not be enough to prevent the King from sending him into exile again. 

Versailles always seemed closer when you didn't want to go. It lured you in and once inside you were trapped forever. Once they entered the building, the King would lead them to the drawing room. He would loudly remove every single person from the room except the Chevalier, Phillipe and himself. Questioning would ensue and the only chance of the Chevalier remaining inside the Palace would be his ability to hold his tongue and Phillipe's ability to beg for his brothers mercy.

Cantering sharply into the stables, Louis dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to a stable hand before marching back into the Palace. The lawn had cleared, presumably the Lady de Montespan and the others had returned to their rooms. Phillipe was grateful for small mercies, the fewer people that witnessed this the better. He dismounted too before grabbing the Chevaliers waist and lifting him down off the horse. The Chevalier patted the horse before flicking his hair and looking to Phillipe. 

"What?"

"Why was I unaware you could lift me?"

Phillipe shook his head and smiled before walking after his brother. The Chevalier walked behind him, fixing his eyes on the fine specimen that was about to save his life.

The echo of feet on the winding staircases never sounded louder than when the room at the top of the stairs could bring about the end of your life. The Chevalier looked down to the bottom floor, hoping someone might appear and engage the King in conversation. No such luck. 

Louis walked directly into the meeting room, Phillipe paused at the doorway turning to the Chevalier. 

"Please don't anger him any further. You know how he feels about these potions of yours."

"Believe me. I am more than aware of how badly this can go."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"Well. I guess we'll find out. Good luck."

Phillipe turned to enter the room but he felt a hand fix around his wrist.

"Thank you. For everything."

The Chevalier let go and the pair of them walked into the room, the door shut behind them by a servant. Louis sat in his throne, the room empty of all other furniture for once. He was sat upright but looking to the wall biting his nail. Phillipe stood tall, holding the Chevaliers hand behind his back. 

"Brother. Explain."

"From where Sire?"

"Wherever it started for you."

Phillipe paused, smiled slightly at the Chevalier and began talking.

"When I went away. He seemed to be drinking a liquid but I know it now to be nothing but water. He was trying to..."

Phillipe grinned and the Chevalier looked to the ceiling and laugh under his breath. The King rolled his eyes. Composing himself, Phillipe continued to explain.

"After I shouted at you to leave in the surgeons house I drank the last of the liquid and knew it was water. I slapped him awake."

"To the best of your knowledge Phillipe, has the Chevalier taken any banned substance in court?"

"No brother."

"Has he since the ban, taken any of the substances?"

"No."

"Merci Monsieur. I would like to speak to the Chevalier. Alone."

Phillipe bowed and turned, he whispered 'play nice' and the doors were opened. The Chevalier listened hard to every footstep Phillipe took away from the door. The King removed himself from the throne and took several steps towards Chevalier.

"Chevalier. I let you stay here because Phillipe wants you here. In my opinion, you need his favour to remain in Versailles."

"Yes sire. I am aware."

"It seems as if you have been waiting for the world to focus on you while the world has its focus on him."

"It would seem that way Sire."

The King took a step back and drew his sword. Moving slightly to the side, the Chevalier was worried. Every time a sword was drawn in his presence, it tended to be him who was being threatened. 

"Can you fight Chevalier?"

"Yes Sire."

"Why did I not see you on the battlefield at our last fight?"

"The Prince wished me to remain in Versailles so he had something to come back to."

"We will duel. Tomorrow morning."

"Does one wish me to alert the Prince?"

"No. I will see you tomorrow morning. You will insult my clothing. I will draw my weapon."

"Sire, what will the court believe?"

"It will only be on the lawn in front of Monsieur and the ladies. There will be no threat to the throne. If you make a true attempt on my life, I will have you executed immediately."

"Of course Sire. Merci."

"Do not let this opportunity escape you Chevalier."

Bowing low and practically running out of the drawing room, Chevalier returned to his room, excited to tell Phillipe that he was not being exiled. He opened the door to Phillipe, lying on the bed. Naked.


	5. Take Me

The Chevalier needed no more encouragement. Slamming the double doors behind him, he quickly pulled off his clothes and stood in front of the bed examining every inch of Phillipe's body.

"Mignonette. I have missed you."

Phillipe grinned as he knelt down on the floor and took all of the Chevalier in his mouth. The moans that followed were more than enough to make up for the weeks of pain the pair had gone through. Thrusting his hips into Phillipe's warmth he felt a tingle down his spine as a tongue ran around the tip. Phillipe pulled away, pushing the Chevalier onto his back on the bed.

"I missed you more."

The Chevalier pulled Phillipe on top, kissing him gently. Tongues sliding over each other. Eyes firmly shut, savouring the moment.

"Prove it," he whispered.

Phillipe sat upright before lowering himself slowly feeling every inch of the Chevalier fill him.

"Oh!"

The Chevalier threw his head back in pleasure before watching Phillipe place his hands gently around his waist and moving himself carefully up and down.

After a weekend away, there was nothing Phillipe had wanted more than to be reacquainted with his lover. Although the sun burnt through his privacy, his nights were brightened by his star. Chevalier de Lorraine. Every movement was a thank you. Every kiss was a blessing. Every night together was a godsend.

Speeding himself up, Phillipe groaned loudly as the Chevalier released everything he had into him.

"Come here."

Curling a finger and beckoning him closer, the Chevalier grinned evilly. Phillipe did as he was told, leaning closer and closer until the warmth of his lips attacked. Wrapping his arms around his neck, Phillipe never wanted to let go. He was not going to lose him again. Exile had nearly killed the both of them. Never again. He swore.

"You lifted me earlier. Why has this never come into play?"

Rather than answer with words, Phillipe grabbed his waist and used his weight to roll the Chevalier on top of him.

"I like being on top."  
"So do I. But as always I must please for my chance to stay in court."  
"You will always have a place at Versailles and in St Cloud."  
Phillipe held a hand against the Chevaliers cheek who held it there. Rubbing a thumb softly against the rose that filled his face with joy, Phillipe whispered, "Always. I love you."

Taking the hand off his face, he kissed it sweetly. "Wine?" Phillipe smiled as the Chevalier slipped out of their bed to pour to glasses.

"I think we should go for a walk tomorrow my sweet. Along the lawns. A turn around the garden should do us the world of good."

Phillipe seemed cautious. "You've never been a fan of the outdoors before."

"I did not have someone to share it with properly. Someone -" he paused as he slid back into bed, handing Phillipe a glass. "was always at war." He used his spare hand to tickle Phillipe's ribs who grabbed his hand and held it tight. "Well. I'm here now."

"Hmm. I know."

Sipping on the red wine, the couple could not stop looking at each other. They both had everything they wanted. Every person has a soulmate but few have endured as much as them. Phillipe cherished the joking, sexy and fashion sensible Chevalier. The light in his dark. The Chevalier cherished Phillipe. Despite seeming to take his money for granted, he finally had a home. His home was Phillipe. As long as they were together they were safe. They were loved.

After drinking three quarters of the wine, Phillipe placed the glass on the side table. "What is the matter sweetheart?" Not knowing quite how to structure his answer, Phillipe looked to his hands and thought about the last few weeks. His mind ran over every tiny action he should have recognised, every change in tone, every sarcastic comment. Normally, he would have known the Chevalier was flirting and he had changed so much in those weeks. He hadn't even noticed. The one person he loved the most in the world and he hadn't noticed his behaviour. "I owe you an apology." The Chevalier spat his wine back into the glass stunned. Phillipe snorted but continued on. "I should have understood how you were feeling. I know you hate it when I go away."

"Yes. Why should you get all the pretty men and I have to stay here!"

Playfully placing a hand on the Chevaliers chest the Prince looked him in the eye. "I meant it, I am sorry. I've been useless to you." Raising a hand to his face, the Chevalier pulled him closer to rest his forehead on his. For a moment, they paused. They let the world pass by, the sun set and the stars emerge from their hiding place. "You never need to apologise to me mignonette. I think the saying is it takes two to tango and this has turned into more of a salsa." The pair kissed while giggling in between them. Phillipe learnt to relax, lay his cheek on the Chevaliers chest while a familiar hand was run through his hair. He'd never realised how calming he found it before. They had known each other for so many years and it took till now to realise this was a two way system. The Chevalier and Phillipe only stayed in Versailles for each other. Phillipe would give up the title of Prince in a heartbeat if the Chevalier asked him. He knew he would.

"Look at the sun my love. It has gone. Look what remains. The moon and the stars. Louis may rule the day Phillipe but you, you rule the night. You rule me. You rule my heart and in all my years, I will never have another King."

The Chevalier leant forward and placed a kiss on his head. Not another word was shared between them, only dreams. Dreams that for once in their lives, did not lead into a nightmare. 

Versailles became quiet and then became silent. History marked this down as the first day silence was ever heard in the Palace of Versailles. Everyone lay in their correct place. Phillipe by Chevalier. The King by the Queen. The sparkling stars supporting the silver moon. Tomorrow was a whole new world.


	6. For Love

The Chevalier awoke to Phillipe sat in his chair, his gaze on the sky. Moving quietly, he stepped behind the chair, sneaking his arms around Phillipe's neck with his hands resting firmly on his chest. 

"Morning."

Phillipe moved his thumb softly over the Chevalier's skin, kissing his knuckles lovingly and pulling him closer.

"You're warm."

Phillipe smiled, feeling the weight of the Chevalier lean on the chair. He only did that when he was calm. It made Phillipe feel better, knowing that he was calm. There was nothing to worry about as long as he was content.

"People who sleep all night tend to feel better in the morning my sweet."

"I woke up with the sunlight. Isn't the horizon beautiful?"

"My view is far better."

Phillipe lolled his head to one side as the Chevalier sat on the floor beside him, eyes focused only on the view that mattered most to him. The early hours of the morning meant the Palace was still quiet. Pots and pans were being moved in time for breakfast but other than that they were alone.

"Do you still want to go for that walk," Phillipe asked quietly.

"In an hour or two perhaps. It would be rude to rob the ladies of their viewing of two very fine gentlemen." Chevalier looked himself up and down before nudging Phillipe playfully.

Every breath Phillipe took made the Chevalier tired. His words were like a lullaby sung by a siren. It was hard to resist him but there was a time and a place.

"Are you worried about something?" Phillipe turned to the Chevalier whose eyes seemed to have wandered around the room. "You are nearly never so quiet. A rare treat." He smiled before raising the Chevaliers chin with a pointed finger.

His mind wandered to the insult he was supposed to pay to the King and worried how Phillipe would react but he was under orders not to tell him. It was only a playfight after all. Was this how Phillipe felt before going off to war? Not nervous as such but distracted. Everything he normally loved seemed beautiful still but like it had an odd layer masking it. He remembered he never did ask where Phillipe had gone, instead just made his first day back a misery.

"Why were you wearing armour?"

"I went to Bordeaux."

A wave of regret washed over the Chevalier. The first time Phillipe had gone back he had been lucky to return alive. He had driven him back into his nightmares. Phillipe had gone back to the battlefield to avoid him.

"I should've come with you. It was a stupid charade."

"I'm home now."

Phillipe had turned his head to face the Chevalier. His eyes were serious and his face was entirely earnest. This was how the Chevalier knew he was in love with him. Phillipe pulled this face for no one else. He had varying degrees of sarcastic, love and seriousness. When the light hit his pupils in the way that made them the perfect size, when he raised his eyebrows just slightly and his mouth almost became a complete line, the Chevalier knew this man would kill anyone who dare hurt him. 

"How was it?"

"Quiet..."

"I bet. Louis snoring kept everyone awake here."

"He needs to sleep on his back."

"You are very alike in some respects."

Phillipe stood up almost immediately in offence. "NEVER compare me to my brother."

"But you are. When you are angry, you stand. When you are tired, you sit down in the corner of rooms and when you are desiring... me, you draw your sword or playfight although I am sure he is not as gentle with his mistresses as you are with me."

Phillipe sat on the floor facing the Chevalier, rolling his eyes. He had not accepted the suggestion but there was no denying they were similar. They were brothers after all.

"Why do you irritate me so?"

"Who else will keep you on your toes?"

Phillipe laughed and lay his head into the Chevaliers lap, looking up into his eyes. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, the Chevalier looked down at the child in his lap. He seemed so vulnerable like this. How could this child possibly have fought in a war? It was as if war had de - aged him. 

"Has anyone ever told you that your eyes hold the universe?"

"No... tell me more."

"Your hair is the darkness that brings the most cool of nights. It waves about in the breeze, caught perfectly on your broad shoulders, perfect for wielding a sword. Your legs are the most magnificent beings to stand. Like tree trunks that I have to fight my way through to get to the most delicate flower. And your neck..."

The Chevalier traced a finger from Phillipe's mid-riff to his neck and stopping only at his jawline where he rested his hand but didn't lose eye contact for a single second.

"Your neck mignonette, is the mountains in which I hope I will forever be able to climb. This jawline could cut any man who dare come near. And your face is made of the softest skin I will ever touch. But your eyes... they hold the key to the world my dear."

Phillipe smiled kindly as he reached up to kiss the Chevalier. Their lips brushed against each other for a moment before releasing each other. For a moment, it was just them. Without these moments the pair would surely go insane. They balanced each other out. The Chevalier was the wild one and Phillipe was the sensible one but when they were together they could be either or both all at once. They gave each other the freedom to do so.

Looking out on the lawn, Phillipe noticed the gardeners had begun to congregate and servants were moving about the Palace with more haste indicating that the King was awake.

"We should change."

"As my King commands."

The Chevalier clicked his fingers and whistled dramatically causing the doubles doors to be thrown open. Phillipe's dressers entered and dressed him in black pantalons, white chemise and black waistcoat. The Chevalier sat on the edge of the bed in his white nightgown watching as clothes were taken off and put on the Prince. Every movement fascinated him. The simplest of things like how he flicked his hair out of his face or turning his wrist caused him to smile.

After the Prince was changed, he sat on the bed and watched the Chevalier who dressed far quicker. The servants helped but he knew exactly how every item of clothing was supposed to fit and look. La mode was his area of expertise. 

"How do I look darling?"

"Stunning. How do I look?"

"Meh."

"Meh! Excuse you!"

The Chevalier had already started walking down to the gardens, cane in hand as Phillipe marched after him out of their bedroom. Suddenly, the Chevalier felt a little better about the ordeal to come. If he could insult the Prince then he could certainly insult the King. This would be no trouble at all. 

As Phillipe caught up, the pair linked arms and began their stroll in the garden. His mind focused on the task ahead and as his eye caught sight of the King his only thought was: here goes nothing.


	7. En Garde

Arm in arm, the pair stepped in unison down the gravel path. The backdrop of the Palace seeming like nothing compared to the couple in the foreground. Phillipe slowed to a stop as he watched his brother practicing his swordfighting against one of his men. Louis moved quickly to counter every move but Phillipe knew that his man could kill Louis in a heartbeat. He was being kind.

"Come on. You can do better than that," Phillipe encouraged his soldier, causing the fighters to pause altogether. The King and the Chevalier's eyes met, a clear message passing between them. Ready? Ready. Phillipe scoffed at his older brother, the supposed King.

"You're aware he was going easy on you."

"No. I was not."

"Hmm. You must be losing your knack brother."

Louis looked Phillipe up and down before staring at the Chevalier. "As has your stylist it seems."

"Sir, it seems your dressers have given in altogether."

Phillipe bit the inside of his lip and looked to the Chevalier with panicked eyes. So soon after his last visit before the King... this was not a wise move. At all.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I was simply making the observation sir that it seems as if an ass has dressed you."

Louis raised the point of his sabre, leveling it with the Chevalier's throat. Knowing full well he did not have a sword on him, the Chevalier turned quickly to Phillipe, faked a hug and pulled his sword out of the scabbard. Phillipe snatched at the air in front of him, trying to prevent the fight that he thought would go badly. Clearly, the Chevalier had never told him he could fight.

Thrusting his right arm forward, Louis aimed straight for the Chevaliers head but missed. He ducked, moved around and struck forward twice. Unlike the soldier, the Chevalier was intent on proving himself to Phillipe. This was obvious, he was dangerously close to making an attempt on the Kings life. Phillipe watched as the Chevalier made moves that he'd recently taught his army. Had he been watching from their room? Had he actually paid some attention to something for once in his life? 

Being a man of fashion, the Chevalier even managed a sword fight with one hand classically behind his back. Swishing his wrist firmly this way and that, he made several steps forward. The King had nowhere else to turn. The Chevalier lunged forward, the King tripped backwards and landed on his back. 

"Hmm. Your brother often ends up in that position too." 

Phillipe had never been so embarrassed. He turned his back on the fight altogether and tried not to laugh. The Chevalier held out a hand to the King who was flat on the floor, his eyes closed. Taking the outstretched hand, the pair smiled at each other.

"Phillipe. I have a feeling this man must join our army."

Phillipe shook his head. "He would spend the whole time judging their garments brother. It would be a terrible waste of his talents."

"Well, you're in charge."

Making his way back into Versailles, Louis clapped the Chevalier on the back twice causing him to smile with immense pride. Phillipe's jaw dropped. 

"And when was this skill going to be revealed to me?"

"Hmm. Never. I'm a man of mystery."

Slipping the sabre back into its scabbard, Phillipe and the Chevalier stood dangerously close to each other. Their eyes fixed on each other, the Chevalier using his hands to find the scabbard. Breathing heavily, the Chevalier grabbed Phillipe's hand but Phillipe's eyes had flicked over to a well covered part of the forest. His heart was thumping a mile a minute. Not only was the Chevalier funny and well dressed. He could fight. Although his mind was thinking impressive, other parts were thinking... soldier uniform.

Pulling firmly on the Chevaliers hand, Phillipe led him close behind as they headed into the forest.

"Do you promise to do as I say?"

"Yes sir."


	8. Breakfast

Bumbling out of the trees, the Chevalier buttoned up the top of his shirt while Phillipe fastened his trousers. "Do you think anyone saw?" Phillipe questioned as he tripped over a log trying to exit their hiding place. Luckily, the Chevalier caught him by his hand and pulled him upright before looking left and right. "No. But they definitely heard..." He tilted his head sarcastically and grinned before leading Phillipe out of the forest and back to the path they were walking on before. This was the first time they'd risked being outside. Both of them liked the foreplay with their swords, the threat was always diffused. It showed they could be trusted. Out here... it was different. There was risk the entire time. Although a pleasure for both, it could end disastrously if caught. The Chevalier was always rougher when he was back to nature which wasn't a problem for Phillipe. It finally felt like they had both learnt what each other liked. They weren't children anymore. This wasn't just sex. This was love. Love that Phillipe wouldn't trade for anything.

No one seemed to be around once breakfast had been served. That meant everyone was on the other side of the Palace. No one had seen. No one had heard. No repercussions.For once, they could just be happy. Something nearly always interrupted and to be able to relax for once was a welcome surprise. 

"How was I?"

"Better."

"You're learning."

"You're a good teacher..."

"Well, you know I'm open to experimenting."

Phillipe hooked arms with the Chevalier and held him tight. He wasn't losing him this time around. Not as long as he had a breath in his body. 

"Shall we get breakfast in our room?"

"I don't think I could face my brother after that..." He pointed with his head to the woods which made the Chevalier chuckle at him.

"Mignonette. It would hardly be new information."

The stairs of the Palace weren't too much effort when you were walking and talking and the Chevalier could not stop talking about a new shipment of fabrics that were coming to Versailles in a matter of days. New silks, blends of wool and colours of all variations. Phillipe's mind could barely remember the last time they'd been having a normal conversation. It was nothing to do with his duties, their relationship or a tragedy in France. Pushing the double doors of their bedroom wide open, the Chevalier ran in and landed face down on the bed like a child in a hotel. This gave Phillipe an idea. They both viewed this as a hotel, not quite home. They called it home because they'd stayed for so long. It was about time they went to their real home. St Cloud. 

Chevalier ordered his breakfast from the bed, his shoes had somehow been kicked off and had landed in separate corners of the room. Phillipe ordered the same before clearing the table of papers and laying on it, his eyes tracing the swirls on the ceiling.

"You've gone quiet," the Chevalier exclaimed before sitting up and watching Phillipe intently.

"I was thinking about home."

"We are home?"

"St Cloud. Our home."

"Oh... do you want to go back?"

"Love to, but you know Louis won't let us."

The Chevalier pulled a pillow out from behind him and threw it at Phillipe who sat up immediately. He was smiling but his eyes were saying 'Do you want to do that again?'.  
"You are powerful. You have everything you need. If you want to go home, you tell him that."

"I am powerful but I'm missing one thing."

Phillipe picked up the pillow and launched it back at the Chevalier. 

"My bed."

The Chevalier smirked and scoffed loudly. "You'll have to take it from me."

Pillows began flying left and right, vases smashed, glasses teetered dangerously close to the edges of the table. Picture were knocked slightly askew and the door was slammed shut when Phillipe was hit in the face and he flew back into it. The Chevalier's hair kept getting stuck in his mouth and every time a pillow hit him or he was nudged, it messed up all over again. Phillipe somehow remained perfect. His china doll cheeks never lost their rosiness, his hair never lost its bounce and he never fell over once unlike Chevalier who tripped over a table leg and landed splayed on the bed.

Laughing loudly, their fun was ruined as the servants brought breakfast upstairs. Bacon, eggs, a rack of toast and of course, their morning wine. "Merci," Phillipe uttered quietly to the servants as they place everything on the table. The room was a state, as was the Chevalier who was a constant source of amusement for the entirety of breakfast. 

"I really don't know what you find so hysterical," the Chevalier questioned in a ridiculous accent as he balanced a fourth fried egg on his head before trying to take a sip of wine without them falling off. Phillipe snorted unexpectedly and almost choked on his bacon. Naturally, the Chevaliers gaze fell upon the tray of sausages. Without saying a word, he stabbed one with his fork and just stared at it. Phillipe stared hard into the side of his head, trying to stop him crossing a line. Bringing his lips closer and closer, Phillipe grinned but carried on shaking his head. Pushing a tongue out of his mouth, Phillipe had to prevent it from happening. "Stop it! Just eat food properly." The Chevalier shook his head and put the whole thing in his mouth in one go. Phillipe dropped his head to the table, unable to look at the clown that brightened his life.

"You're a nightmare," Phillipe rolled his eyes.

"You're a day dream," the Chevalier flirted incessantly.

"Who is better?"

"Me."

"How is a nightmare better?"

"You may not like me but you don't have a choice if I turn up or not. I choose to have you."


	9. Poison

Louis was rushing about the palace smashing plates of food to the floor. He was yelling through the corridors, "POISON! POISON!" Phillipe heard it and desperately retrieved the sausage out of the Chevaliers mouth. "Poison," he whispered holding the sausage in his hand. Chevalier just coughed and rubbed his throat."Is it poisoned or is someone jealous?" Louis burst through the double doors and into their room, "Don't eat it. Any of it."

Phillipe stood up immediately which just caused Chevalier to roll his eyes. "Who was it?" The Prince's voice was worried. A death in the palace usually meant Chevalier started to pack and became insatiable until he was a safe distance away. It was rare that something happened in Versailles without the cause being jealousy. "Montespan. Madame de Montespan is dead." Chevalier eyes widened. There was only one person who had enough reason to hate Montespan to the point of death and there was very little chance that the King was about to accuse his wife in front of the entire court. His eyes met Phillipe's and they understood each other.

"Brother. Who killed her?" 

Through gritted teeth Louis managed to spit out, "I'm. Not. Sure."

There was no point pushing him. After all, for months now Versailles had been a breeding ground for evil. Potions, poisons, conspiracies. All of them happened under one roof. If the King insisted on keeping them all cooped up like chickens he must be prepared for the consequences. Anyone could have killed Madame de Montespan and the Queen was normally so well restrained. By the end of the day there was little doubt that Phillipe would be leading the investigation. The King so often used him as disposable. Chevalier disagreed naturally but couldn't argue with Louis. It never made matters better.

Suddenly turning an odd shade of white, Louis sounded like he was about to be sick. Phillipe sat him down and offered an empty bowl towards him. "Brother. It would be sensible to retire to your chambers. Being seen around Versailles may offer more chances to kill you or those around you." Louis coughed and nodded with his eyes closed. The world seemed to rest on his shoulders more than usual recently. Now he'd lost his closest mistress...

Monsieur waved a hand at a servant to escort his brother back to his quarters and got his own men to clear the room of all food. "You'll have to suffer for a few hours. I can't have murders living a few rooms from you. You're a liability as it is." He delivered the last line with a little wink and the Chevalier threw a grape at his head.


End file.
